creative writing

Perspective: Short Story

©️™️®️Copyrights all rights reserve to E.L.F 2017

Some people have talents. Talents in which they excel in and can use to their advantage. Most people are good at dance or hockey, football, some are amazing at math or science. I am not one of those people. I couldn’t dance if I tried and I could barely run without having an asthma attack. My talent was one no one really talked about. Or if they mentioned it, it wasn’t in the way I wanted it to appear. I am a really good stalker. Not in the use of the internet because believe me, it isn’t hard at all. I am a stalker that will use a phone book to find someone’s address, stand outside their window and watch their every move. I never meant it in a negative or creepy way, of course that is how it will appear. I don’t have any intentions of harming the people I stalk or even talking to them. I just like information. 

It all started back when a family moved into the house at the end of my street. They moved in the same time my family did. At first, I had no interest in watching them. In fact, they seemed so boring. A family of three, their only daughter was clearly adjusting well since she looked like every other girl at this school. Tall, thin, pretty, I didn’t know anyone who looked like that, and didn’t fit in. The father was a lawyer and the mother had a small bakery that just opened downtown. So yes, very average family. So I thought. That was how they appeared on the outside, so I became determined to see the inside of this ‘Perfect’ family. However I decided to do something I was great at. Stalking. I waited after school for the girl to come home. I decided it was best if I actually waited outside her bedroom.

Making myself pretty unnoticed, I waited. The trees in their backyard seemed to have just been planted, and I heard a dog bark in the distance. I crouched beneath the window, being the house is a bungalow, I stayed low to the ground. I jumped slightly as a small plant grazed against my arm, then relaxed knowing it was nothing. I heard a car pull up and checked the time. Exactly a quarter after two. I quickly checked the window to assure I was outside her room, the pink fluffy pillows and band posters on the wall was the give away. Not to mention the endless amounts of makeup on the dresser. I heard the car honk indicating that it locked and I waited for the keys to jingle, before knowing she was definitely in the house. I crouched back down again and pressed my ear against the window pane, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. I heard some heavy metal music start to play and a bag being thrown to the ground. I peered in quickly and it seemed she wasn’t alone. There were two of them. The one who lived here, had blonde hair and the other girl seemed to have a bundle of red curls. They began laughing and having a good time just like any two teenage girls would. I analyzed their movements and saw they were laughing at something on the redhead’s phone. It slightly irritated me how the two of them thought they were so cool.

I mean, come on, they’re nothing special. Just two average teenage girls probably lurking their crush on his Instagram page, or even worse, his ex. I watched their smiles grow and jaws drop as they clearly found what they were looking for. I stared back outside watching the wind blow slightly and the dog continued barking. I found it uncomfortable sitting in the dirt flower bed, but what other choice did I have? I peered back in and the girls were no longer consumed with the phone. Instead they appeared to be fighting. I gazed further in and the red head seemed really upset. The two of them yelled and then the blonde who lived there threw her textbook at her. Then all Hell broke lose. Both girls were throwing things and yelling things I couldn’t comprehend through the glass. Both had a look on their face that resembled betrayal and pain. They continued to scream and all I could hear was the muffled voices, as loud as they could go. The argument prevailed and I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene. Between the cries, screams and broken objects on the ground it was tough to call who would win this teenage war. Suddenly I couldn’t even hear what was going on outside. It was like I was right there in that bedroom listening to the argument. My heart was pounding and the blonde girl lifted a lamp and tossed it, knocking out the opponent, stone cold. I felt my heart pound harder and I couldn’t allow myself to watch and not do anything about it. I had to call for help. I had to. But if I leave now, am I really witness? After all, no one even knows I’m here. Will I get pegged as fleeing the scene? I can’t. I cannot reveal my talent I have worked so hard to perfect. My conscious got the best of me and I forced myself to help. I struggled to break the window pane and stop the madness. The streak of blood on the walls was pure evidence from the brutal hit by the lamp. I gazed around for what felt like ages as I quickly tried to get inside. As I pushed my body weight on the glass, it shattered and I found myself staring back at a reflection. The pieces of glass fell around me, it was never a window I was looking in, it was a mirror.

Yours ’til the social medias📲

E.L.F

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